


Human [Sherlock x Reader]

by LonelyPeony



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyPeony/pseuds/LonelyPeony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lighthearted, fluffy, feel-good Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x Reader drabble to brighten your day.<br/>What does it mean to be human?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human [Sherlock x Reader]

He didn’t like it. Not one bit – that feeling he gets when his deep blue eyes meet your soft [e/c] ones. That annoying, wretched lightness in his stomach drives him mad. Just like you.  
   
You’re not the most cunning of sorts, not at all. But it’s not like you’re stupid either. No, just average, or at most above average. Yet you try to blindly follow along with his “ramblings,” as you call them, about the newest cases. He knows you won’t ever understand nor be able to deduce the puzzles at crime scenes. But you ask anyway and yearn to learn from him, the man with a sharp tongue and no filter.  
   
When you’re there, he can’t focus at all. Your presence encourages divergent thinking, something he rather despises. Your creativity and artistic nature distract him from his job. Yet how is it that, when you’re around, he’s able to solve cases more efficiently and in a quicker fashion?  
   
He figured that he must really hate you. He experimented a bit and compared his feelings with you as opposed to without you. His results were quite conclusive. That irritating feeling that constantly pestered him disappeared when you weren’t beside him, thereby confirming his hypothesis. And so he avoided you for one whole month to rid of the problem.  
   
But the side effects were much worse than he had anticipated, more horrible than what he had tried to diminish. He felt strangely empty inside, and no, it wasn’t because he was hungry. In the midst of his work, he would catch himself thinking of you. _What is she doing right now? Is she going to have her usual afternoon tea at 16:00 today? Where is she now? Is she with another man? She’s probably doing something utterly stupid right now. I hope she remembers to eat lunch; you know how much she stresses herself._  
   
He brought up these nagging feelings with John, assuming the former soldier knew how to properly diagnose others (he was a doctor, after all). John laughed and told him it was simple: he was lovesick. To this, Sherlock said a few condescending words.  
   
With this new thought in his mind, he found himself thinking of you more and more. Inviting you to his flat, he couldn’t help but notice the recurring feeling once more. But for some inexplicable reason, it felt good this time.  
   
Everything about you seemed brighter than before. He took pleasure in watching you fix your [h/c] hair. He saw how you loved smothering your scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream, then taking the tiniest bites. He personally preferred his scones plain, but if it was what you liked, he would make it obligingly. He found it all endearing, how you look down when you smile and gaze up shyly at him and talk of trivial things. The way his name rolled off your tongue became music to his ears, something he looked forward to even more than Mendelssohn’s works.  
   
It came to the point when he felt the strong urge to touch you. Your warm skin against his cold fingers drowns him in euphoria. Your modest lips against his unforgiving ones leave him wanting more. He runs his thin fingers through your hair, relishing in its silkiness.  
   
You make him feel insecure. He never knows if his truthful words will drive you away one day or if he’ll break your fragile innocence.  
   
He falls asleep fearing the worst, yet every morning here you are. He gazes upon the first thing he sees – your bright smile and wonderful [e/c] eyes that contain a world so beautiful, no star in the universe can compare.  
   
Every morning, he wakes up with you in his life. Every morning, he wakes up with that warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside. Every morning, he wakes up with a smile and thoughts of love. Every morning, he feels human.


End file.
